


Red

by TheHarlequinRevolver



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Implied Relationships, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), ME1, Mass Effect - Freeform, No Spoilers, Romance, Ruthless (Mass Effect), Sentinel (Mass Effect), Shakarian - Freeform, Shenko - Freeform, Spacer (Mass Effect), Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHarlequinRevolver/pseuds/TheHarlequinRevolver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus liked to think that his assignment on the Normandy wasn’t just something that happened without reason.  The spirits had aligned things the right way for him; just as his job at C-Sec ended, he made eye contact with a woman who looked like she knew exactly what she was doing.  The most interesting thing about her that he noticed was not necessarily the fierceness of her demeanor or her stride, though.  It was her red lips.</p><p>Short fic I wrote for a friend!! Takes place during ME1, almost 100% spoiler free.  Spacer/Sentinel/Ruthless Femshep</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> welcome back! this wasn't exactly how I was planning on returning to AO3. I was hoping to have more updates to Security this summer, but moving has been hellish for me. however, a friend of mine just started the Mass Effect trilogy and she wanted to know more about Shakarian. after scouring this site for something that she could read without many spoilers, I could only find a few examples and decided to just write something on my own. this is featuring her beautiful Shep, Celeste. she is a ruthless spacer sentinel and probably has cooler makeup than most people I know. I don't anticipate this lasting any more than 3 chapters because I really want to get back to Security now that I have my confidence back. please R&R!!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> THR

Celeste Shepard had spent most of her adult life in the military, but never before had she imagined that she would be the commanding officer of her own ship.  Of course, she had always dreamed of such a thing when she was younger.  She did have a personal vessel back then; however, it was just made of plastic and made little sound effects when the right buttons were pressed.  Times had changed, though.  Through countless commendations and battles, she had made it.  She was a Spectre now--the first human one, too--and she had somehow managed to get her hands on the brainchild of the turian Hierarchy and the Alliance.  Her name was the SSV Normandy, and while she didn’t mind being in command of the ship, she couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t deserve it.

At first, it didn’t feel like _her_ ship.  She had indeed been the executive officer, but nobody could replace Captain David Anderson, a man she knew better than most.  They were coworkers but he was also her superior and mentor.  After serving with him and surpassing him in a few ways, there seemed to be no other option; she had to make him proud of what she was doing.  Her assignment wasn’t a simple one.  Tracking down a rogue Spectre who had more than a few tricks up his sleeve appeared to be job better suited to one of her superiors, namely the one who she jokingly called “dad”.  Anderson had made it clear, though.  He had ruined his chances to be in Celeste’s shoes a long time ago.  It was time to pick up where he had left off.

Sometimes, though, living up to her own preset expectations made things difficult.

Celeste looked out of the window in her room.  She wasn’t sure why she did it anymore; the view would be the same every time as long as they weren’t docked.  However, the charm of the stars was inevitable even after years of growing up as a spacer.  Perhaps she liked them because they brought her back to a time when life was easy again.  When she was a child, she was able to look at the stars with whimsy in her dark eyes.  They signified adventure and wisdom; each glimmer was an uncharted world.  Now, though, it was hard to relax and think of a time when they evoked innocence.  She couldn’t help but wonder if that star was where Saren was hiding.  What if the supernova glittering in her peripheral vision brought her closer to her objective?  In actuality, this probably wasn’t the case.  Celeste’s mind raced regardless of the irrationality of her thoughts.  When this much stress was placed on her, there wasn’t much else she could do.  

Fortunately for her, though, nobody else on the Normandy knew this.  If there was one thing she was good at, it was keeping up her reputation.  Yes, she was ruthless at times, but she put being fair above everything else.  It was the best way to lead, in her opinion.  It also still gave her opportunities to fulfill her dream of being a badass.  It was slightly immature of her, but she still couldn’t help but fantasize about being the kind of woman she would see in vids as a kid.  She kicked asses and took names, standing up for what was right in the galaxy.  Any words that passed through her red lips were righteous and commanding. However, at this point, it was fair to say that she had surpassed the dream woman that she had conjured up in her head.  

Despite this reputation and everything she had gone through, her eyes still sat lost in the stars, wondering how she had even gotten to this point.  It was overwhelming, but she knew that she couldn’t just sit there.  In a flash, she came back to reality, stood up and then began walking to the door that lead out to the crew deck.  Before leaving, though, she was sure to swipe her infamous lipstick across her lips one more time.  Who said she wasn’t allowed to be a little frivolous just because she was on a warship?

The door opened with its usual buzzing sound and the crew members that were on the deck turned to look.  Some of them greeted her with a smile while a few others nodded.  There was one in particular who smiled a bit more than most; he was straight to the left of her cabin and was hunched over a few storage lockers.

To Celeste, Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was both an enigma and a trusted friend.  When they had first been assigned together, she learned to appreciate his skills in combat.  Their specialties were similar; both had a knack for tech and biotics and it created something they could talk about.  Even after Shepard gained control of the ship, their conversations became longer and longer.  They were somewhat therapeutic; Kaidan had interesting stories to tell, and from time to time Celeste could swear that he was flirting with her.  Some comments were more blatant than others, and while she did find the man attractive, there was someone else on the ship who offered her just a bit more for completely different reasons.  

She couldn’t think about him now, though.  Kaidan was beaming and walking towards her, which meant imminent conversation.  Shepard didn’t mind, though.  Kaidan wasn’t _him_ , but she certainly did enjoy his company.

“Commander,” he said, his smile fading just a little.  “You missed dinner.  Granted, there wasn’t a lot to miss food wise, but it’s still funny watching Liara dealing with Alliance rations.”

Celeste chuckled.  He was right; she had missed dinner and hadn’t even realized it.  As a biotic, it wasn’t good for her to skip meals.  She burned calories faster than the average human, and if she slipped enough, she would quickly become too skinny for combat.  After making a mental note to grab a protein bar before taking the elevator down to the cargo bay, she made an effort to smile at the man in front of her.

“Poor girl,” she said, quirking an eyebrow up.  “She really wasn’t kidding when she said she didn’t know much about humans.  I really didn’t think that included the food.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two, and before she could say another word, Shepard’s eyes lingered on Kaidan as he continued his work.  It looked like he was cleaning something up from the storage locker.  What it was didn’t seem like her business.  Of course, it probably was her business, but she trusted Kaidan enough not to get involved.  While she did like talking to him, she needed someone else to curb her slight anxiety about what tribulations were ahead of her.  

That man’s name was Garrus Vakarian.

Everything that happened after that was a blur in Shepard’s mind.  She carried on with the conversation for a few more minutes, talking about their next mission to Noveria and how hellish the economy and security was there.  She ducked out after that, saying brief hellos to the rest of the crew.  After grabbing that protein bar she promised herself, she padded over to the elevator.  

One hand held her nourishment and the other one fingered with the tube of lipstick in her pocket.  She kept it wedged in her undersuit even in combat, but on the ship it was always on her.  Most of the time she just fussed with it so her hands would have something to do.  Now, though, it felt different.  She fidgeted with it because she was somehow a little bit nervous.

There was an undeniable attraction between Celeste and Kaidan, but he wasn’t the only one on the ship who shared a special connection to the commander.  At first, Shepard didn’t know what to think of the former C-Sec agent that she had picked up on the Citadel.  He was headstrong and wanted to be a hero, that much was certain.  He was also a turian--a tall one, at that.  He towered over her and everything about his body made her wonder.  His eyes were a fierce blue that matched the clan markings on his face.  He didn’t have skin--plates, he called them.  It contrasted her neutral colored features entirely.  Perhaps that was why she was interested in him at first.  Celeste found solace in Kaidan because they were similar; she appreciated Garrus because they were entirely different from each other both physically and mentally.  

At first, she judged that they would have nothing in common.  Turians came from a rigid society, but in no time at all she figured out why Garrus was considered such an imperfect turian.  He aspired to be like her someday--going against the grain and fighting for morals as opposed to laws.  She was inspired by his tenacity, and he in turn learned from her.  Celeste’s trust didn’t come as quickly in their relationship, but throughout the journey, they developed a mutual respect for each other that managed to drift past mentor and student. It wasn’t like that anymore--Garrus had turned into a friend.  Celeste always talked to him more so than Kaidan.  He didn’t always agree with her, either.  With almost every subject, he had a different approach.  Some people were scared to stand up to Shepard, yet over time, Garrus turned out to not be like that.  He made her question herself, and to Celeste, that was just as admirable as honesty and loyalty.    

A few months into stopping Saren, the crew seemed to notice the friction between the friends.  They ate together and Shepard spent more time than she should have when it came to “inspecting the Mako’s repairs”.  This was really code for spending time in the cargo bay with Garrus, and once rumors began circulating, Celeste had to question herself.  Did she really spend that much time in the cargo bay?  Garrus was an alien and also her friend.  Those kinds of thoughts were dumb, right?

They didn’t seem so dumb when she began to apply more lipstick than usual and straightened up her uniform just so she could go see him.

It was all subconscious at first, she thought.  There was no way in hell that she had a petty crush on an alien that looked like a humanoid raptor.  She had never felt attraction towards turians before.

That is, until she began opening her eyes a little more.

During their lengthy conversations, Shepard began noticing things.  At first, it was the small stuff that she didn’t feel ashamed about.  She admired the markings on his cheeks and the way his mandibles would flare when she cracked a good joke.  Then she began paying a bit more attention to his voice.  The dual tones it had changed based on his tone, almost as if he was sending her subtle messages.  She wasn’t one to judge, though; her knowledge of turian vocals was nonexistent.  

Now, though, she watched him in a way that made her feel like a teenage girl again.  The curve of his hips and the way his armor always hugged his body intrigued her.  His eyes shined brightly every time they met hers, and each time he smiled, she couldn’t help smiling back.  It all felt so stupid at first and she doubted that he reciprocated the feelings, but she didn’t care.  

In Celeste’s mind, Garrus became a fantasy--a _“what if”_.  She didn’t want to ruin the relationship she had with him and she sure as hell had no desire to admit her feelings.  It was obvious that the crush was becoming too much for her--as if she didn’t have enough stress already.  Yet at the same time, Garrus calmed her.  The emotions she experienced in his presence confused her; she was both anxious and relaxed at the same time.  This occasion was no different.  

The elevator doors slid open and she shoved the wrapper of the protein bar in her pocket with the bright red lipstick.  With confidence, she began to walk over to the Mako, ignoring the other crew members in the room.  They didn’t acknowledge her, anyway.  They knew why she was really there.

Her combat boots made a distinctive thud on the metal grated floor.  She had to vent to Garrus--there was a lot to go over after the last mission, after all, but much to her displeasure, he wasn’t there.  This situation seemed highly unusual.  Garrus usually kept to himself after mealtimes and calibrated the large vehicle in the cargo bay.  He was a man rooted in routine--it was probably because he was a turian--but today, this didn’t seem to be the case.

Celeste crossed her arms and inspected the scene in front of her.  The Mako looked relatively untouched, and despite being out roving on a planet the other day, it looked immaculate.  It just proved that her friend was good at his job, and as if to confirm this even more, she continued giving the vehicle an informal inspection.  As she moved, it was apparent that there wasn’t a single scratch.  

When she got behind it, though, she found a welcome surprise. 

She had never questioned where or when Garrus slept.  She remembered him saying something about turians needing significantly less sleep than other species.  That wasn’t really what was on her mind right now, though.  What she did see was a very large turian sleeping on a cot that looked neither comfortable or appropriately sized.  Both his fringe and his legs hung off of either end of the cot, and to Celeste’s surprise, the man hadn’t even taken off his armor.  It looked quite excruciating, and with a bit of hesitation, she took a step towards him. 

He must have heard her.  He had to have, because in an instant, Shepard leaned back and watched as Garrus sat up and rubbed his forehead.  His eyes appeared dizzy from lack of rest, but that was all Shepard was able to determine about his current state.  Turians weren’t like humans; there were no bags under his eyes and and he didn’t seem lethargic.

“I didn’t interrupt you, did I?” she asked, her lips curving into a frown.  Thankfully, he didn’t look too unhappy with her.  In fact, she could swear that she saw his mandibles flare out just a bit.  

“No, I was just catching a cat nap.  That’s what humans call it, right?”  

This was something that Celeste couldn’t help but laugh at, and as a friendly gesture, she held out her arm to help him up.  He took the offer in stride and the turian was soon on his feet again, making his way out to the front of the Mako.

“You don’t usually sleep now.” Celeste continued.  “Are you slacking off, Vakarian?”

At first, Garrus’ heart pounded a little.  He might not have been one that played by the rules, but he did not slack off.  It wasn’t in his nature.  Luckily for him, he had gotten better at reading human body language.  Judging by the smirk on Shepard’s face and the way she had shifted her weight to one hip, it was clear that she was joking.  

“You know me,” he joked.  “I always look like I’m doing something until you show up.  Sometimes I’m convinced you do that on purpose, Commander.”  

Just like it had been before with Kaidan, Celeste allowed a comfortable silence to fall between them.  It was then that her smile faded into a neutral expression.  Garrus knew that look and what usually came along with it, and when she had her back turned, he dared to touch her on the shoulder.  

She flinched.  He held back.

“Are you stressed again?” he asked.  He didn’t know if this was overstepping his boundaries, but even if it was, he did it out of concern.  Shepard needed someone to look after her, and while this hardly seemed like a role that was appropriate for him to take on, he worried about her.  This was something that friends did, right?

“Not that I’ve been watching, but--you’re tense.  I could see it on the last mission and you haven’t mentioned anything troubling you for a while.”

He was right.  She knew he was right and it made her bubble up on the inside.  She also knew that he had noticed her every move; her finger moved to the trigger and she shot more than she had to.  Her biotics flared and she was louder than usual.  Kaidan didn’t seem to pick up on it; maybe he thought she was having a bad day.  But it had all been building up and Garrus had somehow seen through their interspecies boundaries and noticed something.

“How do you sleep on that cot?”

Celeste turned around and looked Garrus in the eye.  The feeling of his hand on her shoulder was unbearable in the best way possible.  It almost burned like it was a punishment; she shouldn’t be feeling this way about a crewmate.  A turian crew mate, no less.  She had to change the subject.

Besides, she had been burdening Garrus with her problems for long enough.  He never complained or talked about his own.

The turian’s mandibles furrowed in confusion at the subject change, but he wasn’t about to argue with Shepard.  This was, after all, a point of contention for him.  

“Off the record?  I’m lucky I don’t have to use it much.  It’s not as long as a standard issue Hierarchy bed back when I had to serve, but I’m not about to complain.”

What happened next was hardly what Celeste had intended to say.  There was something about Garrus that made her spew out more than she would have liked.  He ruined her composure and she didn’t know how to feel about it.  If he kept it up, she didn’t know how long she could keep her badass reputation for.  

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.  “I’m sure they sell military surplus on the Citadel.  I like my crew to be comfortable and I, uh...I need you, Garrus.  Somebody’s gotta watch my six, right?”

She hadn’t intended for her tone to be so tender.  However, she did mean every word that she said.  If her crew wasn’t taken care of, it could inhibit them from completing their mission.  That and she really did care about their well being.  She just happened to care a bit more about Garrus’.

“Right.  That still won’t be necessary, Shepard.” Garrus said.  “I don’t want to ask for special favors.”

Little did his superior know, he was showing obvious signs of turian embarrassment.  His eyes flitted around and his mandibles flared in and out.  He could feel the sensitive skin underneath his plates begin to heat up, and as he tried to maintain eye contact, he kept telling himself that he was overthinking things.

Garrus liked to think that his assignment on the Normandy wasn’t just something that happened without reason.  The spirits had aligned things the right way for him; just as his job at C-Sec ended, he made eye contact with a woman who looked like she knew exactly what she was doing.  She had a two person squad with her and was armored from head to toe.  The most interesting thing about her that he noticed was not necessarily the fierceness of her demeanor or her stride, though.

It was her red lips.

In his time as a C-Sec officer, he had met many humans.  Each one was different from that last and he began questioning how diverse their gene pool really was.  Some had skin that was paper white with eyes the same color as his and golden hair.  Others had skin the color of coffee--a distinctly human beverage.  Their hair was wiry and intriguing, leaving the turian endlessly curious.  

Never before had he seen a human with bright red lips, though.  It was something that drew him in, and as embarrassing as it was, he had stared at Shepard while she walked towards the Council.  While the concept of lipstick on humans was foreign to Garrus, he was still interested in the woman.  She was distinct and had the air of a leader.  The events that followed just happened to all fall into place just at the right time.

Now, he stood in front of the commander, who had turned into a woman with many hats.

She was the boss, a trusted friend and even a teacher.  Despite not being well acquainted with human relationships, he guessed the one he ended up forming with Shepard was rather different.  She didn’t always come down to the cargo bay to talk to Ashley and Wrex.  It was fair to say that she made exclusive trips just to see him and so that they could speak.  It wasn’t easy at first, especially with their different ways of thinking.  There were times when they were polar opposites.  This wasn’t something that deterred either of them, though, especially Garrus.

After being stuck on the same track his entire life, he needed someone like Celeste.

They were in a good place now.  She unloaded her troubles onto him and he gave her tactical input.  They discussed moral issues and agreed.  On good days, they disagreed.  When this happened, it always ended with raised voices that were still good natured.

Sometimes they laughed.

Either way, they had a bond now, and as much as Garrus wanted to resist becoming attracted to his superior, Shepard made it impossible.

It took the turian a moment to pull his mind out of his thoughts.  Celeste was in front of him now, her arms crossed.  They both knew that she wouldn’t hesitate with that cot.  She might have been ruthless when she had to be, but she was also kindhearted.   

“It’s no trouble.” Shepard mused, pacing to look at the Mako again.  “You deserve accommodations that work for you.”

“But I can make do.  You don’t need to worry about me.  What matters is stopping Saren, not getting rid of a cot I only sleep on for only a few hours a day.”

It soon became obvious that Garrus wasn’t budging, making Celeste’s cheeks flush red.  That goddamned effect he had on her started to well up in her stomach again, and before she knew it, she was saying something that she knew she couldn’t take back.

“If you don’t want us to pick something up, then I’ve got an idea.” she said, her body leaning on the Mako.  “You sleep at different times than me, right?”

Garrus didn’t know if he was supposed to respond.  The thumping of his heart in his chest reverberated in his ears, and with anticipation, he took a step towards his commander and took the same position as her.  

“If you’re ever in need of some real shut eye, my room is usually free.  My bed is a helluva lot more comfortable than a cot and it should be long enough.  N-Not that I want to be out of line, but--”

She was in too deep now.  What had she just said?  Was she really that stupid?  She had let herself slip again and now she was making it seem as if she wanted to set something else.  In actuality, she wanted to test the waters, but she had no intentions of pushing Garrus this far.

“Commander…”

_Oh god._

“I wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries.  Alliance ships aren’t like turian ones, but if it makes any difference…”

_What was he saying?  What had she done?_

“I might take you up on your offer.”

 


	2. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is a bit short. still trying to see where this is going. thanks for the feedback and the kudos! it's always appreciated!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> THR

It was fair to say that Celeste Shepard was, most of the time, level headed.  If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have made it as far as she had in the Alliance.  This, however, didn’t excuse her from having certain faults.  Her temper flared up at times.  She couldn’t handle incompetent bureaucrats or people who strayed from what she thought was right.  Oddly enough, she couldn’t stand when crew members left cabinets open in the Normandy’s staff kitchen.  Other than those few things, she liked to think that she could control herself.

Right now, though, one of her faults was flaring up a bit more than she would have liked: she didn’t know how to deal with talking to people she was romantically interested in.

It was a flaw that many people had.  In Shepard’s case, she could talk to government officials for days and entertain the press as much as she wanted.  Unfortunately, this coolness didn’t mean that her romantic skills were as poised as she wanted them to be.  The second someone approached her at a bar and bought her a drink, it was hard for her to be suave.  Unless she was a little tipsy, words that she didn’t want seemed to just spew out of her mouth.  While she wasn’t exactly in a bar right now, this situation was even worse.

“You might?”

Garrus looked down at the floor.  Was this breaking protocol or was she just being nice to him out of pity?  He was just as flustered as she was and this was an offer that he didn’t want to refuse.  He didn’t want to look like some sort of pervert, though.  He really did want a comfortable place to sleep.

Being closer to Shepard wasn’t something he was going to turn down, though.

“As long as it won’t cause any issues for you, I think it’ll help out in the field.” Garrus continued.  “It’s nothing anyone will be suspicious about as long as they know the reasoning--not that there is anything to be suspicious about.”

Shepard might not have known, but Garrus had the same predicament as her.  Back on the Citadel and even on Palaven, he hadn’t been a ladies man.  If anything, he was downright awkward and had never been on a successful date.  Being himself never seemed to be enough.  Every relationship he had been in just hadn’t worked out in the long run.  Perhaps this was because he had tried too hard and hadn’t opened up.  He really didn’t know at this point, and when he picked his head up and locked eyes with Celeste, he began to feel uneasy.

Had he chosen his words incorrectly?

“Of course not.” Celeste said as she tried not to bite her lip.  He didn’t seem to be doing anything in particular to make her feel so warm on the inside, but he was doing it and she had to force herself not to stammer.  “This is just to help you.”

She hated what this turian was doing to her and she somehow found herself going back every single time.

“Thanks, Shepard.” he replied.  “You’re the first superior who’s ever done something like this.  I appreciate it.”

This comment, despite his lack of romantic skills, was genuine.  The nicest thing a turian in the Hierarchy had ever done to help him personally was to give him the location of a good arms dealer.  Other than that, he had to fend for himself.  Garrus didn’t mind this, but kindness was something he always admired in someone--namely someone who he was interested in.  Other humans he had come into contact with had been the exact opposite.  Shepard was more than just a little different than some of the xenophobes and assholes he had met in the past.

Meanwhile, Celeste’s head was racing.  Had she really made that much of an impression with just a slip of her tongue?  Part of her was impressed, yet at the same time, she was terrified.  Should she make an attempt to flirt with him now?  Was she trying too hard?  

God, she had no idea.  

“Just so you know, I, uh…”

 _It was happening again._   

“I don’t do this for everyone.  I like you, Garrus.  You deserve it.”

No matter how good her perceived slip up might have been, Celeste had never turned on her foot and speed walked to the elevator so fast in her life.

* * *

As he watched Shepard go back to whatever it was she had been doing before, he had to wonder if her exit had been intentional.  Her words also gave him something to ponder, and in pure embarrassment, he shrugged back to his old cot behind the Mako and plopped down.  

If there was one thing he had determined about humans, it was that they were hard to read.  C-Sec training had given him basic body language knowledge and he had also learned some on his own.  Another confusing thing about the species was their language.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand it--he had a translator for that.  Sometimes they said things that they didn’t mean or intentionally beat around the bush.  Turians were the opposite; they made their thoughts known and were always clear about everything.  

Shepard was no exception to this rule.  She had said that she liked him.  What did that even mean, anyway?  Why was he overanalyzing this like a school aged boy?  Of course, he knew exactly why he was being so petty.

If she cared for him as more than a squadmate and a friend, then he would certainly be justified in overanalyzing her words.  

She had been vague, though.  Her abrupt exit made things even worse and he was almost tempted to go check on her.  That was something that a friend would do, right?

Garrus stood up and ran a hand over his fringe, which was hotter than it should have been.  She had done that to him and he wasn’t even surprised.  Luckily for him, nobody on this ship seemed to know turian signs of embarrassment.

However, as he took the same path that Celeste had, he figured out that people had been watching their interactions.

“You and the skipper sure do know how to embarrass yourselves.  I’d say it’s kind of cute, but--”

“What?”

Garrus shared his space with two others in the cargo bay.  There was Wrex, the quiet and aggressive krogan who seemed to have a grudge against him.  As a turian, he couldn’t blame him.  The wounds from the Rebellion were still fresh in Wrex’s eyes.  

Other than the krogan, there was another human.  Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams was like Garrus in that she was always bent over and working on something.  Somebody had to tune up and maintain the squad’s guns, and while he didn’t always care for her attitude, she was pretty damn good at what she did.  They talked enough to be friendly with each other; granted, their favorite subjects included the hellish bureaucracy of the Citadel and weapon mods, but she was still good company.  At the same time, though, he could tell that she held back around him.  She wasn’t like Shepard and he figured that this was normal.  Not all humans were open with aliens.

When it came to personal subjects, Ashley was tight lipped.  Nobody in the cargo bay had ever meddled with each other’s personal affairs until now, and Garrus was mortified.

Ashley, who had been hunched over her workbench, tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear and stood up.  If Garrus and Shepard thought that she hadn’t heard their conversations, they weren’t as smart as she had thought they were.   Day after day the skipper took the elevator down to the lowest deck of the Normandy.  She conversed with everyone most of the time, yet it was obvious that she had started to favor Garrus more than the others.

For the longest time, Ashley had been suspicious about the two.  She respected Shepard enough to know that she wouldn’t break any Alliance regs.  She was a strong and respectable woman who didn’t seem to lose her cool often, yet after the stunt she had just pulled seconds ago, Ashley couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

She could have guessed that Celeste would be sweet on Alenko, but a turian was certainly coming from left field.

“You like her, don’t you?” Ashley said as she cracked her back from hours of work.  “It doesn’t take a genius to see that.”

This comment got a deep laugh out of Wrex, the krogan who never seemed to make any noise.  At this point, Garrus felt cornered.  His greatest fear was someone figuring out about his repressed feelings, but now it all seemed like it was out in the open.  Was he past the point of denying it?

“Who said I did?”

His subharmonics were wavering, making his voice sound almost cowardly.  He detested every second of this, and to his horror, Ashley turned around and looked him dead in the eye.  

“I’m not really sure how an interspecies romance works.” she said, crossing her arms.  “I don’t even know if you like her or not, but if you do, I would make a move.  She’s under a lot of stress and could use something to perk her up.  It seems like you’re able to do that, Vakarian.”

Garrus’ mandibles flared out.  Nevertheless, he maintained his barely there composure and mimicked Ashley’s stance: arms crossed, straight posture and inquisitive look.  If he could just make his way through this conversation, maybe he could begin to consider heeding her advice.  

“If I, uh, was interested in making some sort of move, what would you suggest?”

The faux smooth tone in his voice made it almost impossible for Ashley to hold in laughter.  She wasn’t about to play matchmaker, though.  It wasn’t her place and she didn’t even want to intervene.

“I was never really keen on cheesy romantic stuff.” she lied.  If she was being honest, she’d talk about using Shakespeare to his advantage, but that was something she would rather keep to herself.  “Check the Extranet and just keep watching her six when you’re out with her.  I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” chimed in another voice.  “Shepard’s as tough as a krogan woman, but who am I to say that she isn’t sappy?  I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now.”

“Thanks, Wrex.  That was...oddly encouraging.”

Under the watchful eye of his squadmates, Garrus looked at the elevator once more, deciding that now wasn’t the time to go after Celeste.  He had to think about this and let her sort things out with herself.  Although love wasn’t something he was good at, he took it seriously.  Love was also a strong word, but with Shepard, he felt something close to that.  It was warm, electric, dumb and embarrassed him to no end.  It was him not trying too hard and laughing his ass off.

That was something like love, right?

If he could just capture those feelings and pray to the spirits that she felt the same, something in the galaxy might just end up working out for him.


	3. Purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey!! sorry this update took forever, but I just moved into college! please note that this chapter contains spoilers for the Noveria mission. enjoy!
> 
> xoxo  
> THR

_Never before had Garrus Vakarian been so happy to see the Citadel._

_Other than Palaven, the Citadel was where he had spent a large chunk of his life.  It was his first place of real employment outside the turian military and it was the place where he had matured.  There were fond memories he had made there and some that he preferred to forget.  He didn’t seem to care now, though.  After Noveria, anywhere else in the galaxy seemed more hospitable._

_What had seemed like a simple search mission turned into something he had never expected.  Shepard had brought him and Liara along for a reason, and when it was all over, they were all freezing their asses off and disturbed by the return of a previously extinct species.  Liara had also lost her mother, which had to be a rough blow._

_Shepard had asked her if she wanted to come out to the Citadel to get a little air.  She had errands to do there and Liara hadn’t left her office in the sick bay since returning from the frozen world.  When the asari refused, the Commander didn’t push her.  It didn’t feel right to._

_This meant that it would just be the two of them scrounging around the Wards._

_After visiting Dr. Michel and picking up some much needed upgrades, the diminished squad found themselves in Flux.  That was when, surprisingly enough, Celeste Shepard dragged Garrus into getting a drink._

_“After what happened,” she said as they walked in, “I need a beer.  Or some ryncol.  Whatever comes out first.”_

_Garrus chuckled at that.  Who was he to object to a small break?  He needed it too; he could practically still feel the numbness of the cold sinking into his plates._

_Flux was crowded that day.  People of all species had gathered there, all blissfully unaware of the events brewing around them.  Music pounded, surging out the door and beckoning those in the Wards to come in.  Without ingesting a single drop of alcohol, it was still easy to get intoxicated by Flux.  This wasn’t Garrus’ first time, though.  He had been there enough during his time at C-Sec and had a few days where he left without a single credit left on him._

_That had been embarrassing._

_Shepard settled on a table that had recently opened up.  Leftover drinks still littered it, but without fail, one of the friendly waitresses came and cleared their spot._

_“Have you spoken to Liara yet?” Garrus asked while settling into his seat.  “In depth, I mean.  She can’t be taking this well.”_

_Celeste ran a hand through her dark hair and grimaced.  She had grown to care about Liara, and as confident as she was with her decisions, what happened down in Rift Station wasn’t what she had planned.  Benezia, as evil as her actions had been, seemed like she could have been saved._

_Then, of course, there was the subject of the damned Rachni Queen.  God, she didn’t even want to think about that._

_“You’d think it would be easy.  I just...don’t know what to say to her.  Part of me wonders if we could have helped her.  Benezia, I mean.”_

_Garrus’ mandibles shifted at that.  Out of everything that she could have said, that wasn’t what he had been expecting.  Shepard was_ doubting _herself.  Sure, she had done it before, but this time, she was being much more frank about it._

_“You and I both saw her.  Liara knew it was too late for her, too.  Besides, what she was doing...who she was helping...we couldn’t have negotiated with her.”_

_“Why do you say that, Vakarian?” Celeste questioned.  “What if she could have been helped?  What if she could have been an asset?  You’ve always been someone who theorized about the ‘what-ifs’, right?  What makes this different?”_

_Damn.  She was good at this._

_He couldn’t say that she was smiling, per say.  This wasn’t the kind of thing that anyone could smile about.  But her expression, the gleam in her eye and the glimmer of her red lips made him knew that she was testing him.  This was happening more and more now that they were closer._

_She leaned in a bit and flagged down a waitress.  After they both put in their order, they found that they were in a staring match._

_Garrus presented his retort._

_“There was nothing we could have done and you knew that.  Saren works off of mind control.  Even if we were able to save her, she still could have been under his influence.  I feel bad for her, but I don’t negotiate with my enemies.  I never will.”_

_“Are you trying to say that your commander was wrong?”_

_Garrus’ mandibles quivered in shock.  He hadn’t meant to be so firm with what he had said and he certainly didn’t want to boss her around.  They were in an odd place right now.  This place, albeit strange, was friendly, too.  He thinked he liked it, but he also didn’t want to overstep his boundaries._

_He had broken eye contact about thirty seconds back, and when he looked up again, he realized she was smirking.  She did this a lot and it was fair to say that she was joking with him._

_“Maybe I was wrong.” she continued.  “I might not have told the Council this, but I don’t know if what I did down there was right.  Any of it.”_

_Two drinks were placed in front of them.  For him, it was a turian wine.  Its light green color was tainted by the lights and the music around them made it dance in the glass.  While the beats might have been pounding, he was able to concentrate on the woman in front of him without any trouble.  He thought that was odd._

_Shepard, on the other hand, got exactly what she had wanted.  The Citadel had just started importing some lagers from Earth, and while they seemed to be a trend among aliens, that kind of beer had been her alcohol of choice since she was a teen._

_Garrus took a sip.  “I don’t doubt what you did.  You’ve got the moral compass of a good turian, Shepard.  It’s not like you could have done any better.”_

_“Bullshit.” she said, raising her glass to toast with him.  “What about the Rachni Queen?”_

_She was being so informal with him.  If Garrus was being honest with himself, he loved it.  Celeste had different personas: a battlefield one, a Normandy one, a shore leave one.  She was still always the same person at heart, though.  No matter the situation, there were certain quirks that were omnipresent.  The way she was now enticed Garrus; she was being even more honest than she usually was, telling him everything that she seemed to keep bottled inside.  She had faults.  She liked to drink._

_It made him realize how much of a bubble the Normandy and life in space could be.  It was easy to become absorbed into the mission and forget everything about yourself.  Saren was all that mattered except when it came to moments like these.  The galaxy seemed smaller now.  They were pretending to be normal people._

_And Celeste Shepard, who was widely admired and respected, appeared to be more of a companion than a commander._

_“Fine.  I’ll admit that I wouldn’t have made that call.” Garrus finally replied as he clinked their glasses together.  “History told us that the Rachni Wars were more than just a little hellish.  But I’m not saying you were wrong.”_

_“She was just...she was_ different _, Garrus.” she said while taking a swig of her beer.  “I don’t think all of that was an act.  I trusted my gut and I think I was right.  The workers were misguided--maybe they can have a purpose now.”_

_“Then it looks like you’ve done your job.  It’s not like you have any Alliance red tape limiting your decisions anymore.  You’re a Spectre.  It seems like doing what you want is part of the job description.  Only if you romanticize it, of course.”_

_Celeste paused.  The man in front of her was correct in more ways than one, and without fail, her attention faltered.  Her eyes wandered around the room, not settling on any person in particular, and she began to think.  That was one of the things she loved about Garrus: he never failed when it came to helping her question things that she would have overlooked._

_The Alliance had been her life for countless years.  It was a fact she had accepted long ago, but now she had a different title to uphold.  As a Spectre, she could do whatever she wanted.  She would be held responsible for the return of the Rachni, regardless of whether or not their impact was positive or negative.  The Council would give her hell for what she had done, yet they wouldn’t punish her._

_Had she been under direct Alliance jurisdiction, she would have already been court marshalled within minutes of her mission report being released._

_Perhaps this was why Saren behaved as he did.  Undeniable, lawless power brought out certain things in people.  It wasn’t surprising that a Spectre would go overboard._

_Garrus couldn’t understand her now.  Her eyes had gone vacant, staring at a subject that he couldn’t discern.  His wine was almost gone, and while he took his last sip, her name was on his lips again._

_“Shepard--”_

_“I don’t want to be like Saren.  Maybe I need red tape and the Alliance.  Some people don’t know how to handle so much responsibility and I don’t want to ruin everything that I’ve started.”_

_“Don’t even say that.  You’re nothing like him and I know you never will be!”_

_Celeste hadn’t been expecting such a sudden outburst from the turian, but she didn’t interrupt.  She just listened and placed her beer down._

_“Saren is out of control.  He’s always been that way.  He has no control, he’s a sociopath, he’s...he’s the complete opposite of you.  You’ve got discipline and the kind of poise he’ll never have.  Sure, he’s cunning, but you do things the right way.  People respect that--_ I _respect that.”_

_This was when a strange feeling began to well up in Celeste Shepard’s stomach.  It was something she hadn’t felt in a long time, and even then, this was much different than that.  It was warm and full; every bit of her body felt full to the brim as if she was going to overflow.  Her cheeks flushed and she began to fall prey to the strange sensation that tingled everywhere.  Without thinking, she spoke._

_“Poised?  If I didn’t know any better, Vakarian, I’d say that you’re flirting with me.”_

_“Ma’am?”_

_His subharmonics shifted, catching the attention of the turian at the next table over.  Unbeknownst to Shepard, he snickered, making Garrus’ mandibles deviate from their normal position.  He had heard what she had said, and much to his embarrassment, so had a few other people.  And for the ones who were turian, Garrus’ embarrassment was all too apparent._

_Luckily, Celeste recovered._

_“I was joking,” she said, pulling out a suave smirk.  “I meant to thank you.  You actually listen to me.  It’s...a change of pace.”_

_“You know I’m here whenever you need me.” Garrus said.  He was becoming comfortable again, and much to Shepard’s surprise, he beamed back at her._

_“You’ve been more than just polite to me and you’ve taught me a lot.  I should be the one that’s saying thank you.”_

_Whether they knew it or not, their body language was changing over the course of their conversation.  Shepard leaned forward more, resting the palm of her hand on her chin.  Her pupils were dilated and her legs were crossed tightly under the table._

_The turian in front of her, on the other hand, was starting to show his own emotions.  His mandibles couldn’t stay still; each second they twitched and were beyond his control.  Along with this, he too was leaning forward.  The music had disappeared at this point, and unlike many of the other patrons, Celeste and Garrus had avoided the charm of Flux._

_Memories like these were part of the buildup.  They were miniscule, adding to the pile like tiny grains of sand.  What mattered was that they happened, though, almost to the point where the two of them couldn’t avoid it anymore.  Unfortunately, these moments were often cut short at the most inopportune times._

_This incident was no exception._

_Shepard went to open her mouth, and without fail, was cut off by the buzzing of her omni-tool.  A lot changed after that._

_The sound of the music slammed into her and she straightened up.  Pretending to be off duty and parading around with her turian friend felt like the wrong thing to do.  Reality had hit them both again._

_Celeste’s fingers hovered over the bright orange hologram that covered her forearm.  The message that she had been sent didn’t please her, but her desires didn’t matter.  There was a job to do and she would be damned if she couldn’t complete it.  If there was one thing she didn’t love about her career, it was the difficulty of balancing a social life along with it._

_“It’s Joker,” she said, her words curt.  As much as she didn’t want to expose her disappointment, it was obvious._

_“Admiral Hackett wants to speak to me.  Something about some more geth incursions in Alliance space.”_

_Garrus knew what had just happened all too well.  There was no use in fighting it, and without fail, he stood up and pulled out his credit chit._

_“You go ahead.” he said.  “Drinks are on me.”_

_“You don’t have to.  I’ve--”_

_“The Admiral needs you.  I’ll get back on the ship before you leave port.”_

_“I hope you know that I’m not handling this without you.”_

_He laughed at that._

_“I wouldn’t dream of it.” he said.  “Go."_

_Once again, Celeste didn’t argue.  She was too baffled to be able to, anyway.  With nothing more than a smile, she stood and gave Garrus a lighthearted salute before walking away.  Just like that, their moment was over and a turian had left her walking out of a Citadel casino with her heart fluttering like a teenage girl._

_“He’s such a goddamn gentleman…”_

* * *

_Shit!”_

The doors to the Normandy’s elevator shut at an almost unbearable pace.  Once Celeste was sure that they were closed, she muttered more than just one expletive and leaned against the cold metal.  Her forearms got the brunt of the sudden change in temperature, and within seconds, her arms were crossed against her chest.  

Leaving on an awkward note hadn't been her intention.  She might not have been romantically inclined, but stooping to a level that low was usually reserved for someone who lacked any social skills whatsoever.  Normal people didn’t leave others hanging like that, and as someone who was more than just normal, she had floundered worse than ever before.

Never had Shepard felt so inexperienced.  She also had no idea how to make the situation any better, forcing her stomach to have a terrible lurching sensation.  The reputation she had built for herself made her seem impenetrable, yet somehow Garrus Vakarian could change her without any sort of effort at all.

She hated herself for allowing that.  It was a breathtaking, wistful feeling that he gave her.  

Despite the way it threw her off her game and made her curse her own actions, though, she adored every second of warmth he caused.

It didn’t take long to ascend to the crew deck.  The seconds ticked by and she told herself that all she had to do was keep her composure before entering her private quarters.  The task seemed simple at first; she would nod towards Kaidan and acknowledge anyone who had anything to say.

It would be _easy_.

The doors parted and it didn’t seem so easy anymore.  People were looking at her; some were on the verge of staring.  Celeste wasn’t able to recognize the look of anguish that was on her face, yet the entire crew could see it as clear as day.  Some even swore that they were able to see the hair on the back of her neck standing up from the static of her amp. 

This didn’t deter Shepard.  She began to stride towards her safe place, only to be interrupted.

“Commander, do you--”

The door to the captain’s private quarters opened and closed with an infinite speed that baffled everyone in the room.  Something must have happened while she was away and none of them wanted to find out what it was.  Not even Kaidan budged from his position.

A perfect commander would have gone out and acknowledged whoever had tried to flag her down.  Celeste was far from perfect, though, and with a thud, she fell into the chair behind her desk and stared down at the surface.

Reports, datapads, unfinished business and even more littered the space, making working almost futile.  There wasn’t an immediate distraction to settle her qualms; she was going to be forced to think about what had happened.

Her body slinked further down into the chair.  There was no way in hell that anyone else could know about what had gone on--she could already hear the people outside talking.  Their voices were just low enough that Celeste couldn’t decipher the words.

Maybe it was better off that way.

In protest, she shoved her hand in her pocket and pulled out the sole object in it.  The lipstick that she cherished fell to the floor, and when both metallic surfaces collided, the clinking sound forced her to shut her eyes as tight as she could.

She could hear everything now: the hums of the engines, the chatter of others, the tiny sounds that only those with crippling amounts of stress could be bothered by.  Something so miniscule shouldn’t be having such an effect on her, especially considering Saren and everything else that was going on.

As much as she hated it, though, she was well aware that Garrus was worth it.  

Without any sort of grace, the woman put her head down on her piles of work and attempted to relax.  It wasn’t something that she did enough and everybody around her knew it.  Tracking Saren and completing crucial tasks for the Alliance had consumed her life entirely, and while that had been satisfying, she yearned for a personal life that didn’t just involve making her rounds on the Normandy.

Garrus could offer her more than that.

Celeste Shepard thought of all of these things as her eyes stayed closed and became heavier.  She felt the clanging of her dog tags on her chest and heard the bleeping of her omni tool.  Her own breathing became distracting, but it didn’t take long for her to fall into the unfamiliar lull of sleep.  It was like meeting an old friend for the first time in years; she embraced every moment of the rare time that she had been granted.

Nobody disturbed her for a long time after that.  The tube of lipstick that she held so dear remained on the floor.  The Normandy still hummed and operated without her.

  
And in Shepard’s room, all was quiet.             


	4. Cerulean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! this should be the second to last chapter of this fic. I hope you're enjoying it so far! I haven't gotten many comments/reviews yet though but I hope to finish this soon. thanks for your kudos and support.
> 
> xoxo
> 
> THR

_“There are five hundred million results for your Extranet search query ‘human turian relationships’.”_

There were times when Garrus was thankful that he had his visor.  Other than his guns and armor, it was the most expensive thing he owned.  After saving his salary for way too many weeks, he had been able to make the purchase while still at C-Sec.  It was custom, primarily made for targeting and could do everything from showing vital signs and auto-align his aim (he didn’t need to do that often, though) to syncing with his omni-tool for his own browsing privacy. 

Considering the delicate topic he was trying to address, the sync option was coming in handy.

The visor’s blue light reflected in his eyes as he scrolled through the text with simple movements of his iris.  He had tried other queries before this one; most of them turned up with results that consisted of nothing more than fetish porn and shoddy forums that didn’t offer up much useable advice.

He was nervous now.  Deep down, he wanted some sort of affirmation that he could understand from the woman who had stormed out about an hour ago.  Unfortunately for him, he was no expert on humans.  Sure, he might have a great understanding of his commander and her feelings, but romance was different.  It was complicated with members of his own species to begin with; humans just made it worse.

They didn’t have bond markings or clan insignias on their faces.  Their lack of subharmonics made it impossible to understand what they were really saying.  Hell, he couldn’t even figure out if she was kidding or not half the time.

Someone had to write a manual for these kinds of subjects.  Of course, such a thing wasn’t so easy to find.  For both humans and turians, the First Contact War was still fresh in their minds.  Some considered the other race an enemy.  He didn’t want to think that this was holding him back in his personal relationship, yet it did make finding something or someone to consult quite difficult.

Even during his time at C-Sec, he hadn’t seen a lot of human and turian couples on the Citadel.  They all looked enamored with each other, and looking back, he envied how easy it was for them.

Now that he thought about them, maybe he was making a big deal out of this.  

Links to sites scrolled past his eyes as fast as he could read them.  If other interspecies relationships could work, there was no reason he couldn’t pursue someone he cared about.  Granted, their circumstances were a bit more complicated.

He tried not to think about that.

“ _A Guide to Human Body Language: What Turians Should Know”  
_

Garrus settled for that one.  The source seemed reputable and it didn’t look like a fetish site, so by those standards, he had to be onto something.

He clicked it, and as he began to read, things began making sense.

* * *

 

_It had started off as a joke at first._

  _Joking with her now felt good; they were close enough so it didn’t seem disrespectful or awkward and he sure as hell wasn’t scared of how she would respond to him.  The small bit of apprehension that was left made him feel good, though.  It kept things exciting.  
_

_They had been in the cargo bay just as they always were, doing everything from talking about Saren to discussing what living in space long term felt like.  Their conversations weren’t linear, but they sure as hell were interesting.  
_

_Right now, they happened to be discussing the layout of the Normandy.  
_

_“As much as I love this ship, there’s nowhere to practice.” Shepard said.  Her back curved against the Mako, forcing Garrus to take in how she was able to fit right against it.  Human spines curved more than his own and he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous._

_“I mean target practice.” she elaborated.  “Turian ships have places for that, right?”_

_He adjusted his posture and looked up from what he was doing.  If he was being honest, he was supposed to be focusing on the terminal in front of him.  As usual, Celeste had put the vehicle through its paces when they had landed on Amaranthine a few days ago.  He had fixed it and was checking repairs until three hours prior; that was when she had come down to chat._

_She always had his full attention.  They both knew this, but he didn’t want to seem like he was neglecting his responsibilities.  
_

_“Yeah,” he said, stepping back and taking a break.  He had done this a few times already; what made this occurrence different was that he didn’t plan on stepping back towards the terminal to work.  She was so distracting that he was making mistakes, anyway._

_“We don’t always have spaces for practicing long range--sniper work is usually done in specialization training or on the field.  Small arms are easier to stop and control in a contained space.  The last thing we need is a hull breach because of someone’s bad aim.  You can imagine the hell that ensued the first time that happened on one of our ships.”_

_A laugh fell from Shepard’s lips as she crossed her arms.  The Alliance had too many regulations to allow target practice on its vessels; even if the Normandy was a human and turian design, it wasn’t feasible._

_“I didn’t get a lot of weapons training in the Alliance,” she mused.  “I had to have pistol and assault proficiency, but everything else was just for different classes.  They wanted me to focus more on biotics.”_

_Garrus cocked his head.  He couldn’t imagine not being able to use most weapons that were at his disposal._

_“So you've never handled a sniper?”_

_“I never said that I didn’t.” Celeste replied.  “I’m just not as good with them as I feel like I should be.  That’s why I always wanted a place to practice that wasn’t on a foreign planet or an Earth training center.  It would make things more convenient.”_

_“And here I was thinking that you were good at everything you did.”_

_“Hey, I never said that either.”_

_Garrus’ legs creaked while he shifted, his armor clanging on the grated metal flooring.  He knew for a fact that a good chunk of the crew saw their commander as untouchable.  She could do what she wanted and seemed perfect.  This untouchable persona didn’t last when he was near her, though.  She made mistakes and cracked just like everyone else; she merely handled it better than others._

_“If you’re really as interested as you say, I can teach you some things.” Garrus proposed.  Never had he expected to be the one that was the teacher in their friendship.  He wasn’t aware of everything that she had learned from him; most of the time it felt like he was soaking her words up like a sponge.  This was something that he could offer her.  The idea of sharing his most prized skill made a smile appear on his face, forcing his sharp teeth to come into view.  
_

_Celeste, on the other hand, was getting more excited than she should have been._

_She too was grinning from ear to ear.  Without any sort of consideration, she grabbed the turian’s wrist as he walked past her.  Her grip was solid yet inviting, and as he stopped in his tracks, their eyes met and he could feel her excitement.  
_

_“Are you serious?” she asked.  Garrus saw the glint in her eye and didn’t know what to do at first.  He hadn’t been lying; teaching her would be fun._

_“Sure.  As long as you don’t become my rival, then I’d be happy to.  I don’t need someone else taking my long range shots.”_

_“No promises, Vakarian.”_

_With a flick of her hand, his wrist was at his side again.  Seeing her elated over something so little gave him relief; the toll of the mission was starting to close in on her.  Why she was so thrilled over a minuscule thing eluded him, but who was he to judge?  They were both happy and that was what mattered._

_Celeste had resigned herself to sitting against the Mako now.  Her legs ached from constant standing and activity and she welcomed an opportunity to relax.  For a moment, she wondered if her reaction had been too extreme; even if it was, her emotions weren’t an exaggeration.  Had she not been given biotic abilities, she would have started soldier specialization training as soon as possible.  The fact that the Alliance invested in biotics was one that she loathed and was thankful for.  It meant that all of her expenses were paid.  Advanced weapons training was an afterthought, though.  She had tried to teach herself back when she was still becoming an N1.  However, lack of sleep and time got the best of her.  Most of the skills she picked up herself were insignificant._

_She had seen some things during her time in the military and she could say without a doubt that Garrus was the best sniper she had met.  Even she envied his skill; he could make his rifle dance without any sort of effort.  The recoil didn’t make him flinch, and to her amazement, he was always on target.  The sheer grace he had was something else, too.  In her opinion, he didn’t get the attention he deserved.  When she could, she complimented him and could feel her insides fluttering at every word.  
_

_He downplayed her remarks every time.  This wasn’t surprising._

_As Shepard sat there analyzing the time they had spent together, her eyebrows furrowed when she saw what her comrade was doing.  He had disappeared over to his locker on the other side of the cargo bay, only to come back with that damned rifle in his hands.  It was an extension of his own hands just as the visor was part of his face; it was natural for Garrus, almost too distinct.  The way he was handling it now was informal, and as if to continue with this demeanor, he held a three fingered hand out to help her up._

_“Come on.  We don’t need ammo to start.  It’ll be easy.”_

_The ridges on his nose flared out, almost as if he didn’t think she would accept his hand.  Luckily for him, she didn’t pick up on his nervousness.  They made contact, and with an easy pull, she was up beside him._

_“Now?”_

_“Do you trust me?”  
_

_She still hadn’t let go of him.  
_

_“Of course I do.”_

_Garrus glanced down at their interlocked hands and realized how awkward they felt.  While Celeste had a sizeable amount of strength, her digits were dwarfed compared to his.  The woman that he admired somehow looked small and soft; his hand and talons made most of her tan skin invisible.  Seconds ticked on, and when neither of them let go, they settled.  Her palm and fingers found the right spots and he didn’t dig into her anymore.  Both of them knew that the sensation was foreign.  It was a pleasant kind of foreign, though, and as they stood there for a few seconds, it began to feel a little more normal than it should have.  
_

_“I’m waiting, Vakarian.”_

  _There was that teasing tone again.  Garrus adored it, but now it forced him to snap out of it and do as he promised.  He had lost track of time again, his head fully in the clouds.  Shepard had been no different, and unsurprisingly, she waited for him to let go first.  
_

_Without even noticing, Celeste had flirted without stumbling.  Her heart stammered in her chest and she could feel her breaths becoming uneven, yet there were no falters.  When she didn’t overthink things, the reward was amazing._

  _When their hands were separated, Garrus handed the rifle to his commander.  Just as she trusted him to show her how to use it, he trusted her to take care of it.  She knew how expensive it had been and how much it meant to him.  The tips of her fingers moved over the frigid metal, making her admire the gun’s tenacity and quality.  
_

_“Step out here.” he said, walking away from his station and out into the far end of the cargo bay.  “You know how to hold it, right?”_

_Her feet shuffled across the grated metal flooring and she took her place next to Garrus’ side.  Much to her own dismay, she was nervous; she was well aware of how to hold a gun, but the thought of not being able to impress him seemed to suppress her abilities.  With all the power she could muster, her hands barely shook while she mounted the gun.  It was different to hold such a heavy weapon.  Like her biotics, it wielded a great power.  This rifle, however, wasn’t weightless or powered by eezo._

_“Most people like to shoot prone or crouched.  They say it increases accuracy, but for lack of a better term, it’s bullshit.  Standing challenges you and you’re a good enough shot that it won’t be a problem.”_

_Through his visor, Garrus could see all of Shepard’s vitals.  This hadn’t been something he paid close attention to outside of the battlefield.  Now, though, her numbers blinked more than they should have.  Her heart rate was much higher than normal, and as he moved behind her to adjust her positioning, he could hear her every breath.  
_

_She was nervous.  
_

_His hands were on her again now in a much more intimate fashion.  His hands were on hers, his body hovering near her own as he tried his best to help.  This was the closest they had ever been since they had met._

_“Shepard, you’re--”_

_“Apprehensive because I’m being taught by the best sniper I know?  I guess that’s accurate.”  
_

_“This isn’t the time for compliments.  Your grip is rusty.”_

_Celeste scoffed but allowed him to get her hands into place.  It had been forever since she had handled something so large and precise, and without his direction, she tilted so that she could look straight into the scope.  
_

_“You got a target?” he asked.  She nodded back at him, her eyes fixated on the small storage locker that was the furthest away.  
_

_“That locker over there.  It’s the only thing I can get.”  
_

_“Don’t move.  You’re not at the right angle yet.”  
_

_His hands shifted to her hips now, pointing her body in that direction.  Her feet soon moved with his guidance._

_“Now, if this were a moving target, you’d follow it through the scope and wouldn’t let it leave your sight.  It’s not just point and shoot, though.  You need a finesse, a kind of patience, almost...you have to know when to take the shot and when not to.  That’s the drawback of a sniper--they overheat too quickly for you to not be cautious.  Any bullet could be the last one you shoot, Shepard.  Pretend like that locker is Saren or anyone else who's ever wronged you."_

_She was silent up until then, and even though he advised against it, she moved so she could look him in the eye.  The instructions that he gave her weren’t as tactical as she had been expecting; they were logical and emotional._

_“And what if you’re in a firefight?” she asked.  “You need to be quick.”_

_His breath tickled her neck as he sighed, and with reluctance, he stepped back and took his hands off of her.  The lack of his touch left a void for a few moments, and when she realized what was happening, she shifted up and tried her best to brush it off._

_“You can be quick and patient.  How else do you think I watch your six?”_

_“You’re funny.”_

_“I’m being serious.  You move so erratically sometimes.  Creates a hell of a challenge to keep up with, but it’s fun.  It’s a test of whether or not I should take a shot.  Timing is everything.”_

_Timing really was everything.  Whether it was the right moment to fire or the time to make a move, timing hadn’t been on neither Celeste nor Garrus’ side.  Their encounters were near misses, hardly as on point as the turian’s shots.  Now, though, it was different._

_She mounted the gun again, putting it into the position he had perfected for her.  With his body hovering close, she assumed the target that had been in the crosshairs before she had shifted._

 Patience _, she told herself.  If that was Garrus’ way, then it would be hers.  
_

_“Steady,” he whispered.  
_

_She did as he said, and instinctively, her finger pulled the trigger back.  The locker was Saren, the geth, the Council, the never ending stress that weighed her down so badly that she couldn’t even breathe anymore._

_There was no sound, no shot; just a click._

_She was well aware that the safety was still on; it was a miracle that such advanced weaponry hadn’t evolved into a more advanced system of preventing accidents.  The system worked and was effective enough, which worked for the galactic community.  
_

_“Next time we go out and bust a band of mercs, I want to try a moving target.” Celeste claimed as she thrusted the sniper rifle into her friend’s hand.  “I want a challenge.”  
_

_With his hands still on her, Garrus’ voice dropped down to a tone that enhanced his subharmonics._

_“Don’t get so eager.” he purred.  “You aren’t even used to the recurring recoil yet.”_

_“The recoil of biotics can be bad enough.”  
_

_After her retort, the two fell silent for a moment, lost in the position they were in.  It was then that they realize how up close and personal they were.  They were breaking protocol entirely, and once this revelation hit Garrus, he slinked away from his commander and took his gun from her hand.  
_

_“I don’t know if that helped you at all...but if it means anything, I liked being the teacher for once.”  
_

_The sound of Garrus’ locker closing made Shepard turn around to look at him.  When they made eye contact, she couldn’t help but feel that he was looking at her more intently than usual.  From his perspective, he was taking in everything that made her not like a turian--her softness, her height, her fringe--hair, he meant--even her complexion was different.  However, she did have a hell of a waist and a beautiful face, regardless of the fact that it lacked plates or ridges.  She was too human yet so enticing, yet as he let his mind wander--  
_

_“Thanks, Garrus.” she interrupted.  “And if you’re offering, I want to learn more.”_

_“Give me a time and a place and I’ll be all yours, Commander.”_


End file.
